


The Chronicles of Fallen Angels

by ArtemisRayne



Category: Chronicles of Syntax
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRayne/pseuds/ArtemisRayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles inspired by the web-series, "The Chronicles of Syntax."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Companionship

**Author's Note:**

> I love this show way more than I probably should, but I just can't help myself. It's brilliant.
> 
> Takes place during episode one, "The One that Ran Away." Sian's point-of-view.

They had no one else but each other. For the longest time it had been only them, with the occasional appearance by Kelly and a disembodied word from her absent father. It had been eighteen months since Steven had been brought into the Agency, and every lead since then had been a false alarm. She had no one else, and neither did Steven anymore. It was just them, and Sian tried to convince herself that that's why she cared so much.

It wasn't that they had gotten on instantly. She was short-tempered, and he was awkwardly frank, and it had led to more than one misunderstanding. He had a tendency to make observations aloud without thinking about them first, and she had little patience for him and his elitism. They tolerated each other - at best - for months.

Then while out hunting down a possible call, they were ambushed by the Dogs. It had only been Fenway and Hemlock back then, but it had still been more than enough of a fight. Steven had been one swing of Hemlock's knife away from death before Sian had gotten away from Fenway and stepped in. She managed to knock them both out and was left to half-carry the wounded genius back to headquarters on her own.

The incident changed them both. The brush with death gave Steven a new appreciation for the younger Agent and the work she did, and he reciprocated with his respect. Whatever orders she gave, he followed unwaveringly. In return she started to keep her temper in check when he began rambling, and offered him self-defence lessons. From that day on they worked as a team, and suddenly things didn't seem quite so hopeless.

Steven became her support as she tried not to crumble under the pressure; from her father, of heading the Agency, of a strength and power that frightened her, of an uncertain future they were trying to escape. On the reverse side, she was there when he panicked, when he became frustrated with elusive answers and when the darkness of his past came back to haunt him.

Their trip to recruit Kairan Fischer was the first time in months that they had been separated. When Steven volunteered to go to the basement, her first reaction was worry. Instantly her mind was filled with the memories from that alley, of Steven bleeding on the ground with a blade at his throat. She had to shake those away though, because things had changed since then. He had changed. So she nodded and let him go, but not without a cautioning word at the door.

"Be careful," she said softly, not wanting the kid to overhear.

"I'm always careful," Steven responded with the faintest flicker of a smile. He met her eyes, gave her a look full of meaning, and they parted ways with the lightest brush of hands.

Steven knew how to take care of himself. She knew that, and she told Kai as much. It didn't stop her from drumming her fingers against her thigh anxiously as she stood guard at the door. He'd be okay. She just had to keep telling herself that until he got back.


	2. Apocalypse Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kairan suffers from a bout of apocalypse shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between episodes one and two.

_**  
**_Sian dragged the towel over the back of her neck, wiping away the sheen of sweat that had accumulated during her workout. The burn in her muscles felt good and comfortable, a reassuring familiarity after the unusual day they had had yesterday. Months of searching, and they'd finally found another member for the team, and while he was young, he was clearly good at what he did. His frenetic, spastic enthusiasm was going to take some getting used to though.

She pushed open the door to the lounge and immediately spotted Steven sitting on the sofa, a row of books spread out on the low table in front of him. He appeared to be reading all of them simultaneously, but he spared a glance for her when he heard the door. "I've been reading up on the science of direct energy," he offered, turning a page in two different books. "It shouldn't be any trouble to work up something to help you build a tolerance, especially if the kid is as good with electronics as he says."

"Good," she agreed, walking over and leaning against the arm of the sofa. Her eyes panned across the open pages in front of him and then around the room. "Where is Kai, by the way? He's not still asleep, is he?" He had been asleep when she'd gone by his room earlier, but it was already past noon. She knew teenagers liked to sleep a lot, but still...

"Last I saw, he was hiding under his desk, talking to himself," Steven replied distractedly. Something must have caught his attention, because he was focused on one book, following the lines of text with a fingertip.

"Under his desk?" Sian echoed in concern. "Did you talk to him?"

"I tried," Steven huffed and looked up at her, giving her that patronising glare he always wore when someone interrupted his work. "He was just muttering something about 'We come in peace,' and then waved me off. I figured I'd let him work it out on his own like I did."

Sian sighed and ran a hand back through her hair. She clearly remembered the days after Steven had come to the Agency, and he had several days of anxiety followed by a bit of a nervous breakdown. She supposed Kai was slated for one as well. Especially since he was so young and green, with even less involvement with the coarser side of the world than Steven had before joining.

"Right, well, I'm going to go clean off," she said and stood up. She touched Steven's shoulder and he responded with a quick pat on the hand before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and diving back into the books.

As much as she agreed with Steven's assumption, Sian still couldn't help but worry about the newest recruit as she wandered down the halls back toward the living areas. Instead of heading straight for her room, she looped around to the room the teen had claimed and peered curiously around the doorframe.

Kairan Fischer was sitting on the floor of the room, leaning his back against the side of the desk. He had his legs folded in front of him and as he stared a hole in the wall opposite him, he talked to himself at lightning speed. " - Because I mean who wouldn't think so? Why not? I'll just challenge 'em to a game of Pong, and when I win they'll just stop planning to destroy the world, yeah? Of course, it's not like-"

"Kai?" she said, tapping lightly on the door to get his attention. His mouth snapped shut and he swivelled his large eyes to her. "Are you all right?"

He dragged a hand through his hectic hair and grimaced. "Yesterday morning my biggest concern was a boring art class and a literature paper I've been putting off," he responded, hysteria making his voice higher than normal. "Now I'm some kind of mutant working for a secret government agency, there's a bunch of maniacs out there who tried to  _kill_  me, and somehow I'm supposed to help you guys stop the bleedin'  _apocalypse._  It's - it's a lot and just-"

"I know," she said as he trailed off, looking up at her hopelessly. She slipped into the room and sat down on the floor facing him. "It's a lot to take in all at once. And it's okay to be scared."

"Good, because I'm terrified," he cut in.

"But," she continued, "you wouldn't have been Called if you couldn't handle it."

Kai glanced across at her. "Yeah?"

"You'll be fine," she said simply, because she could tell that most of all, what he needed was someone to believe in him. "Look how well you handled things yesterday. You saved us all."

"I panicked and hid in a ventilation shaft," he pointed out in embarrassment.

"It's not always about the fight, remember," she said. "And when we really needed you, you came through." She smiled and nudged his foot with hers. "Everything else comes with practice."

He gave her a tight-lipped smile in return, but then sighed and let his head fall back against the desk. "Right, okay, that's something," he rambled. "I guess that's one less thing to worry about. Now just for the other  _hundred_  things."

"Kai, stop," Sian said, leaning forward and pointedly drawing his attention. "You have really got to work on that nervous talking thing. C'mon." She tapped his knee and then stood up.

"Where're we going?" he asked, his brow knitting.

"First thing's first, you need some self-defence training," she said. "That way next time the Dogs catch up to us, you can be useful."

"I'm gonna learn to fight?" he asked, and his voice seemed torn between eagerness and fear.

"To protect yourself," she clarified, and gestured for him to follow her.

He scrambled up and tailed her out of the door, already talking a mile a minute. "Can you show me how to do that thing where you flip the person over your shoulder? I saw you do that, it's brilliant. Just like _BAM_ and they're down. Oh and what about a sword, like Steven's? I could be all," and he mimed a series of fencing thrusts as he stumbled along beside her in the hallway, "like a pirate or a-"

"Kai," she interrupted and glared pointedly.

"Oh, right, shut it," he said and snapped his mouth shut again. Still, there was a spark in his eyes again that had been missing, and she knew she'd successfully distracted him. He would be all right in the end.


	3. Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a Cyborg Kind grows fond of the Firestarter.

If Chell was being completely honest with himself - which he rarely was anymore - he was a little bit jealous of her. Ever since the first day that she had joined their little group, there had been something different about Shia. They had found the firestarter completely by accident, and although the men had been leery about the young Asian, Fenway had recruited her. No one could deny that she was powerful, if a little air-headed.

For some reason she had taken to Chell like a puppy, trailing him around the headquarters and hanging on his every - few - words. At first it had annoyed him to no end, answering her infinite list of questions and explaining things to her multiple times, but after a while she had grown on him. After being bossed around all day by Fenway and Hemlock, it felt good to have someone below him. Someone submissive and pliant. If he gave an order, Shia would fill it. It gave him a sense of control that he had lost at some point - perhaps at the time he'd lost his arm and leg, and consequently his humanity - and he loved it.

Their relationship was symbiotic: Chell drew strength from his superiority and status over her, and Shia flourished under his tutelage into a vicious sociopath to rival them all. He was equal parts irritated and infatuated with her.

It took him quite a while to put his finger on just what it was about her that had always caught his attention though. Nothing made sense to him until they were locked up together in the basement of a Scottish boarding school. For the first time, she dared to ask real questions - not questions about fighting or strategy, but about  _him._  About his bio-modifications.

Somehow that struck something inside of him, something that he had dutifully buried. He had forgotten what it was like to be cared for, to have someone concerned for his well being. The others' only concern had been if his modifications had healed enough for him to fight again. There had been no questions about comfort, about pain, about the loss. He had tried not to think about it, because no one else cared. But she did, somehow. Despite the darkness and danger all around them, she's still so incredibly  _human._

He felt part of him coming back to life again, and he glanced at her hands before he asked, "What about you? When you make fire, does that hurt?" She rubbed her fingers against her palms, and when she looked up the sadness in her eyes stabbed straight through him. "Every time." Something like guilt churned in his stomach; all the times he had pushed her through training and target practice, directed her in a fight, and he had never given any thought to whether it hurt her. And she had never refused, never questioned, never even wavered under his commands.

A distraction arrived when the door shifted, and Chell glanced up hopefully. He wanted to get out of this small space, away from her and the strange, alien emotions that she had somehow drawn up in him. Unfortunately instead of the team, it's Steven Bramwell that stumbled through the door and Chell feels himself tense in anticipation of a fight. It killed him to be crippled while one of the Angels is there, and it only grew worse when Bramwell pointed a sword at Shia.

His mind instantly began running numbers and statistics. Shia could have easily incapacitated Bramwell with one well-placed fireball. The question was whether she could generate and throw it before that sword put a nasty hole in her chest. In a larger space with more room between them, maybe. But in this broom closet? The odds weren't looking good. And they only get worse when Bramwell sneered, "It's obvious you're no real threat to me, as your comrades didn't even see fit to rescue you before coming after us."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Chell growled angrily, frustration and betrayal flooding into him. "Shia do not listen."

Bramwell smirked and took a half-step forward, the tip of his sword level with Shia's throat. "They're already in the building. They have been for some time."

Chell fought the urge to punch something. He had seen it coming, really. It wasn't the first time he'd been deserted by teammates, and he had done it before as well. In the end, the mission was all that mattered, and deep down he had always expected something like this to happen. In their place, he would have done the same.

It was Shia's hesitant voice that finally pulled him from his thoughts. "They wouldn't abandon us, would they?"

And in that moment he finally realised what it was about her that he was so captivated by: she was so blissfully  _innocent._ She believed in things, fully and completely; she believed in things like camaraderie and teamwork. She still thought that there was a genuine bond in their team, and she trusted the people they worked for to protect her. Somehow, their world hadn't yet robbed her of her naivety.

It was captivating.

Which is why when she looked to him for direction, he backed down from a fight for the first time in his life. He conceded defeat to get her to safety. They would get their revenge later, he was sure of that, but for now he was going to make sure they lived until that next battle.

Her innocence was something magical and unattainable for him, and he would make sure she kept it for as long as she could. It softened the harshness of his life, and eased the aches. That naive faith in him brought a new light to his world that had been missing for so long, and he wasn't going to let it go so easily.


End file.
